


Sorry About My Brother

by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Brief Cigarette Use, Drinking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, bottom/top switching, oh.wait.i.think.i'm.jealous!chris, shy!seb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:17:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot/pseuds/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the lovely <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnderfelsOne/pseuds/TheAnderfelsOne">TheAnderfelsOne's</a> prompt: Scott Evans flirting or hitting on Sebastian and Chris realizing that he doesn't like it. Doesn't like it AT ALL!</p><p>When Sebastian comes to Chris and Scott's party and Scott starts hitting on him, Chris realizes that he's got feelings for Seb and he gets jealous very quickly. Especially when he can't tell if Seb's shy little smiles means he's into it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry About My Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheAnderfelsOne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnderfelsOne/gifts).



> also on my [tumblr](http://whatthebodygraspsnot.tumblr.com/post/112257785631/hellooo-its-theanderfelsone-you-know-the-one-who#notes) if you find it easier to read there ^_^

It’s a pretty chill party - just some of Chris’s friends and Scott’s friends milling around and drinking but staying cool. 

Chris is just getting done ordering pizza when Sebastian texts him - tells him he’s in Boston — asks what he’s up to — and Chris more or less orders him to come over because the more the merrier and they haven’t seen each other since The Winter Soldier wrapped and that’s  _way_ way too long in Chris’s book.

When Sebastian gets there he fits right in, regardless of the subtle little anxiety tics that Chris recognizes right away — how he rubs at his forearm while he talks — that nervous laugh and nod followed by raised eyebrows and an amused “ah” before he answers questions that require more than easy knee-jerk answers.

He knows it’s not supposed to be, but Chris always thought that was kind of…endearing? Yeah, endearing. 

But it helps when the people they’re talking to are friendly. So when Scott pops up next to them, classic bright-ass-Evans-smile plastered across his face, Chris knows that things will probably be okay.

"You’re Sebastian!" Scott beams, excitement palpable to everyone in the room.

"I am," Sebastian smiles softly, his attempt at initiating a handshake obliterated by Scott’s insistence that they bear-hug. He laughs, eyes flicking toward Chris over Scott’s shoulder as he’s swamped.

Chris shakes his head with an eye roll and a grin. Classic Scott.

"Drink?" his brother asks after releasing the newcomer from his grasp. "Drink. What do you want?"

"Oh uh…" Sebastian slides his hands into his back pockets, glancing around at what everyone is holding and then eyes landing on the bottle in Chris’s hand. "Just a beer’s great."

"Just a beer," Scott echoes toward Chris with an amused laugh, like ‘Do you hear this man?’ He slings a hand over Sebastian’s shoulders and directs him away, moving quickly enough that Chris can just barely make out the last words of: "Come with me, I’d rather show you than try to tell you what we have…"

Knowing that Seb is in good hands (and apparently not invited to their little one-on-one trip to the refrigerator), Chris branches out to dip into someone else’s conversation.

It’s been half an hour before he realizes it, glancing at the clock and then over to where Scott and Sebastian are still stationed in the kitchen, an empty beer on the counter and a full one in Seb’s hand. He excuses himself right as Sebastian seems to do the same, glancing down at the bottle in his hand and saying something to which Scott laughs and waves him off. It’s sitting on the counter when Chris finally reaches his brother.

"Chris, Jesus Christ," is the first thing Scott says when he sees him, entertained and holding back a chuckle. "He just basically asked if anyone was going to put shit in his drink. Is this guy for real?"

Chris smiles gently, glancing down at the beer and then where Sebastian’s disappearing into the bathroom on the other side of the house. “Yeah well, you know. He used to be a big partier. Probably has that whole ‘protect your drink’ mentality engrained into him at this point.”

"Adorable."

Chris nods, pulling another beer for himself out of the fridge and cursing the fact that they didn’t get the twist off kind as he rummages around in the drawer for an opener.

"So what’s the deal?" Scott says after grabbing the metal opener from where it’s hiding on the counter and chucking it toward his brother. "Is he seeing anybody or what?"

Chris turns just in time to catch it, something sour churning in his stomach as he does so. He hooks the metal under the bottle cap and glances up with calculated subtlety. “…why? You interested?”

Scott shrugs, making a noncommittal noise, but the mischievous smile that curls across his lips is obvious. Chris  _knows_ that fucking smile. And it’s making his stomach turn inside out.

"You know what, I don’t think he’s into guys actually," Chris finds himself saying even though he’s actually pretty sure that’s  _not_  the case. But he’s got that feeling in the pit of his gut that’s impossible to ignore. 

But his observation doesn’t seem to put a damper on his brother’s interest, because just then, Sebastian appears out of the bathroom.

"No problem, I’ll figure it out."

Chris’s heart sinks, dread spreading through him as he whispers aggressively as Sebastian draws near. “No. Scott  _no_ —”

"Ay, there he is!" Scott cheers, arms spreading wide and one hand clapping down onto Sebastian’s shoulder when he rejoins them.

Sebastian smiles hesitantly, brow furrowing at the sudden excitement. “Should…I take a piss more often? Didn’t know I’d get a pat on the back for that.”

Scott laughs. Chris groans internally. 

“So listen, we were just talking about your fabulous filmography…”

And Chris doesn’t even have to listen to the rest of that sentence, because he knows  _exactly_ how not stoked Sebastian is when people bring up his previous projects. And it’s clear now in the way his smile drops into something uncomfortable but forced — how he grabs his beer from the counter and takes a long sip to put off whatever response he has to summon up when he’s inevitably asked:

"Talk about type-casting, right? I mean  _my God_. But at least all those guys were pretty smokin’ hot, right?”

Chris wants to grab Sebastian and bring him with him as he throws himself off the balcony. 

Scott, no.

"Yeah, they were fine," Sebastian answers politely, draining what’s left of what was a pretty full beer at the start of this conversation. "Some better than others but…you know."

"I do," Scott nods. "I do know. Probably wasn’t easy to not hook up with them behind the scenes—"

"Oh hey, Seb," Chris blurts out as casually as possible, pulling himself away from where he’s been leaning against the counter to watch this shitshow go down. "I was gonna show you that Cap thing, remember?"

And poor Sebastian looks pulled in two different directions, caught between truly wanting to be polite and make friends and wanting to high-tail it out of there. 

There is no Cap thing. They both know it. But Sebastian points at Chris, eyebrows raising in interest. “Oh yeah.”

"Yeah cool alright we’ll be right back Scott." Chris jumbles it all into one stream of consciousness, but it gets them a second to pull away and out of the kitchen and into freedom.

He drags Sebastian into the little alcove by the front door, far from listening ears.

"God, sorry about my brother. He gets this way when he…"  _When he likes someone_ is what he wants to say, but he can’t push himself to do it.

But Sebastian is talking anyway. “No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

And he’s saying it with such nonchalance that Chris has to wonder if they were just in the same conversation back in the kitchen. But he can’t show his surprise. Can’t accidentally show the fact that he’s slowly starting to realize that the pit in his stomach is probably jealousy. 

"You look like you’re gonna have a stroke," Sebastian smiles, a hint of a tease in his voice as he gives Chris a quick up-down. "Everything’s cool. I like Scott."

Like? Like…normal like or  _like_  like? ”You do?”

"Yeah. He’s sweet."

Chris blinks. Tries to calm himself. Just nods for probably much longer than normal because Sebastian is looking at him like that again - teasing lopsided smile and eyes narrowed like he’s trying to figure something out.

"Do you like…not want me to talk to him or something?"

Chris frowns. “No. God no, that’s not what I’m saying.” And now he sounds like a total dick. Great. “Just…if he makes you uncomfortable—”

"Chris," Sebastian grins, amused, "I’m a big boy. I think I can handle myself around your brother."

"Yeah. No—," Chris just needs to shut up at this point, he can see it in the way that Sebastian shakes his head fondly. "Yeah okay. I’ll just go drown myself in the punch bowl while you do that."

There’s no punch bowl.

But Sebastian is laughing regardless, no longer regarding him with calculating eyes. “Bring some floaties. We can’t afford to have Cap die yet.”

The next couple of hours are tremendously taxing on Chris’s nerves. Scott must get the hint for a little while, busying himself with co-hosting and laughing gregariously with whoever he’s chatting with. But then when Chris glances back, Sebastian has appeared next to him, somehow now involved in the conversation that everyone is having.

And that little pang of jealousy rears its ugly head again. Because why wouldn’t Seb come join  _Chris’s_  conversation? Why’d he pick Scott’s?

Chris takes a brooding sip of his beer, distracted by how Sebastian must say something in his own brand of hesitant sarcasm because the group of people erupt into laughter, Sebastian just standing there with his soft smile and rubbing his forearm and glancing down sheepishly at the ground when Scott leans over to say something to him.

He’s so distracted that one of his friends has to smack his arm to get his attention back, her eyebrow raised as she waits for some sort of explanation. But Chris can’t exactly say  _Sorry, I guess this stupid feeling that I’ve had in my chest since I met my cute friend a few years ago means I actually really like him, but now my brother is hitting on him and I need to go intervene._

So he just says something about…you know what, he honestly doesn’t know what he says. He’s too busy making his way over to where a few people are leaving the group conversation.

"My brother," Scott says fondly, tipping his head to the side as Chris appears at Sebastian’s side. "How long has it been…thirty minutes?"

"About two hours actually," Chris corrects, throwing him an amused smile because he might be hitting on Sebastian, but he’s still his brother and he loves him. "Which means you’re probably about six drinks in, right?"

Scott slaps on a scandalized face, bringing a hand up to rest over his heart. “Did you hear that?” he postures, the couple next to him chuckling. Then Scott turns back toward Chris with a grin. “Don’t worry, Sebastian’s been taking care of me.”

Chris glances over as the rest of the group carries on with their laughter, Sebastian’s expression muted and gaze quickly dropping away when their eyes meet. 

And Chris…doesn’t know what that means.

"Actually we were talking about how great it was that he could make it out tonight," Scott corrects, consulting with the other members of the group for confirmation. "Such late notice. You know."

Sebastian takes a drink (how many does that make, now?) and then shrugs sweetly. “Yeah but at what cost, right? I mean, I wasn’t exactly prepared to make first impressions.” He grins, motioning toward his jeans and button down that Chris thinks are perfectly fine and make Sebastian’s ass look incredible, but he supposes he kind of understands.

Scott must understand too, because he laughs with everyone else and then shakes his head with a mocking furrowed brow. “ _Please_. Casual party-wear. You look amazing.”

Sebastian swallows, eyes lingering on Scott for a moment before they flick over to Chris — something Chris doesn’t expect — and then his lips are curling into another calculated half smile as he glances at the bottle in his hand, his voice quiet. “Uh, thanks…”

Chris watches it all — feels the jealousy blooming inside his chest even as he watches how Sebastian seems to try to shrink into himself — tries to get the attention away from him. Chris wants to grab him and hold him and tell him that it’s okay to be a prick sometimes. That he doesn’t have to stand there and get hit on if he doesn’t want it.

Because…he doesn’t want it…right?

"Smoke?" 

Chris snaps out of his head just in time to see how Seb is staring up at him now, hand dipping in his back pocket and everyone else in their own conversation.

"Oh uh…no," he answers, used to the question after drinking with Sebastian at cast parties. "I’ll come with if you want, though."

The air is crisp when they step out onto the back porch, Chris taking the opportunity to finally sit down on the cement stoop and contain that little spark of fondness that ignites in his chest when Sebastian follows, their knees knocking together even though technically there’s plenty of space to not be sitting this close. 

"I feel like I should apologize for Scott again," Chris says when Sebastian lights up, cupping his hand around the tip and then tilting his head to blow the smoke in the opposite direction.

"Don’t," he answers, his voice the tiniest bit scratchy as he exhales. "It’s okay."

They sit then, for Chris isn’t sure how long, just soaking up the near silence and cool air around them. It’s relaxing and chill and exactly what Chris needs. 

Sebastian is nearing the halfway point of his cigarette, what Chris has learned is his cutoff point whether he’s drinking or not. It’s when he starts to feel that curl of nerves begin to unfold in him again.

He taps his feet on the concrete, staring down at them and then glancing up into the sky. “You know he’s hitting on you, right?”

Sebastian huffs out a laugh, smoke billowing from his mouth and into the darkness as he smiles. “Yes, Chris. I’m not a  _total_  idiot.”

"No, I know." He supposes that was pretty stupid, but… "I just…I mean, how do you feel about that?"

Sebastian sits then, silent and thoughtful, Chris desperately wanting to know what’s going on in his head. Then he takes one more drag, staring down at it before blowing the smoke out slowly. “Wrong brother,” he says, then turns and calmly hands the cigarette to Chris before getting up without another word and heading through the glass door.

The noises from inside the house filter in and out as Sebastian slips back inside, Chris left to sit frozen on the edge of the stoop, Sebastian’s words circling through his head.

He bites down the buzz of confused excitement, takes a long pull on the cigarette (because he needs it), and then drags it out on the concrete.

Chris can’t find Seb when he gets back inside, but he sees Scott talking over by the TV, so Chris figures it’s safe enough to go get himself another drink.

Another period of time passes when Chris gets roped into a conversation with one of his friends from school, but heaven knows the only thing he can focus on is what Sebastian said outside on the porch. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous, but that kind of sounded like things were in his favor, did it not?

He realizes he’s not listening again when he’s prompted with a “You know what I mean?” and all he’s able to do is nod empathetically. “Totally.”

When he sees Sebastian again, it’s both a relief and a pit in his gut, because he’s standing with Scott alone in the kitchen, his back leaning against the countertop as Chris’s brother looms near him.

Chris tells himself to chill. That getting jealous over a friend is stupid. But this friend is  _Sebastian_. And this  _Sebastian_  just might have let on that there’s a chance he might be into Chris just a little tiny bit. Maybe. It’s definitely a maybe. But Chris is going to hang onto that maybe for dear life.

So he watches, on the prowl as Sebastian says something that Scott finds hysterical and then glances down into his bottle, that heartbreakingly awkward-feeling smile visible from across the room as Scott leans forward to offer some sort of rebuttal.

Chris’s friend says something and he nods at her, not taking his eyes off the way Sebastian runs a hand through his hair and then down his face and then sets his jaw when Scott doesn’t lean back, keeping the space tight between them.

Chris considers going over there right then. But how many times can he interrupt a conversation before it’s painstakingly clear that he’s a jealous asshole? So he stays, lurking from afar as his brother says something that gets Sebastian to turn his head and look at him, Seb’s gaze bouncing down from Scott’s eyes to his lips and then back. 

That’s when Sebastian’s elbow knocks the glass on the counter over — when he leans back so quickly that he must not realize where everything is around him and the glass goes tumbling down until is shatters on the floor.

The random chatter across the room stops on a dime, everyone’s attention drawn toward the kitchen. And Sebastian’s eyes are landing right on Chris. A subtle reaching out.

The regular hum of the partygoers resumes after people realize that shit’s not actually going down, that someone was just clumsy, but Chris is already halfway toward the kitchen.

"It’s really no trouble," he hears Scott insist kindly when he reaches them, both of them crouched and cleaning up the mess off the floor. "Trust me. You should’ve seen Chris at the last family reunion. I’m surprised he didn’t take out the entire family lineage after that last scotch."

Sebastian huffs a quiet laugh through his nose, picking up the remaining pieces of glass and standing just in time to almost run into Chris. But their timing is spectacular and the heavens are aligned or something because when he straightens, they come together just close enough that Chris can see the pleasantly surprised glisten in Sebastian’s eyes.

There’s a good moment where they just kind of stand there looking at each other. And then Sebastian breaks the silence. “Probably should’ve held off on that last beer.”

Chris pulls the drawer with the garbage can out, watching Sebastian dump the pieces of glass into it as he says, ”You can stay if you want.” It’s a pretty lame thing to say, so he adds: “I mean, if you don’t think you’ll be good to drive.”

Sebastian glances back up at him, hands now free and bottom lip drawn in. “Yeah?”

And it’s something like one of those rom-coms — those slow motion shots where everyone else blurs out and it’s just Seb, cute and sweet and handsome.

"Yeah," Chris smiles.

If he wasn’t completely zoned in on the man in front of him, he’d see the way Scott watches them, eyes narrowing for a moment before he grins knowingly, shaking his head like things finally make sense and Chris is a fucking idiot but he loves him.

It’s true. Chris  _is_  an idiot. That’s why he doesn’t even notice how Scott sidesteps out of the frame, leaving the both of them to gaze at each other over the garbage can until something loud happens behind him and they both pull out of their moment to see what it is.

It’s just someone telling a joke, everyone else around them breaking out into a fit of laughter. It’s when one of his friends shouts his name, summoning him over to talk.

Chris turns back over to Sebastian, who’s watching the group of people as well before glancing back up at him, eyes sparkling with something endearing.

"Listen," Chris hears himself saying before his brain can process it, "if you need water or anything, it’s i—"

"In the fridge?" Seb finishes with a tiny teasing smile. "Think I got it covered. Thanks, man."

Chris shuts his mouth, feeling just the slightest bit dumb. 

His name is called from the living room once more. A summoning.

"Your people need you, Cap." Seb teases again, but this time it’s obvious how his eyes trail down over Chris’s front and then back up again. "I’ll be here."

Chris considers. “Or you could come with me.”

But Sebastian’s already pulled himself away towards the refrigerator, pulling a water bottle out as he glances over his shoulder with a smirk and repeats. “I’ll be here.”

He is. He stays there for the rest of the night and has people come to him instead. Chris doesn’t know if it’s because he’s still feeling shy around his friends or if Seb’s actually just a genius who knows how to work a crowd.

After a few shared moments where they catch each other’s gaze across the room and grin at each other, he decides that it might be a little bit of both.

It’s around 2:30 when the guests start to significantly thin out, many of them stumbling out of the front door while trying to call a taxi. Chris is Chris so he just calls a cab company and pays for ten taxis to come to the house. It’s convenient and it also better ensures the safety of his and Scott’s totally plastered friends.

When he comes back into the house from literally carrying one of his tap dance buddies down the driveway, Sebastian’s in the living room, drifting hesitantly around and looking up at the family portraits placed around the shelves of the entertainment center.

Chris wants to walk right up and hug the awkward out of him, because he knows what’s going on in his head.

"You can still stay if you want," he calmly reassures, and Sebastian’s head whips over to where he’s standing like he hadn’t notice him come back in.

"I didn’t uh…" he starts, then shoves his hands into his pockets as he drags his gaze back to the photos, "I didn’t know if you were kidding or not."

Chris stops himself from grinning like an idiot. “Nope, you’re welcome to stay. We got a guest bedroom and everything.” It’s completely obvious that Seb’s much more sober than he was before, but all joking aside, Chris isn’t exactly ready to pass up the opportunity to spend more time with him. “Here, c’mon.”

He leads him up the stairs, chuckling as Seb loses his balance a little and topples into him with a heady, “ _Jesus._ Y’know, you don’t realize how fucked you are until you do something dumb like  _move_.”

The guest bedroom is a little small, but it’s cozy and it’s the perfect place to sleep off a hangover. Chris knows from experience.

Sebastian turns in the doorway and smiles up at him and looks genuinely grateful and so fucking  _handsome_  and before Chris can do anything stupid, he claps him on the shoulder and tells him to rest well and heads downstairs to clean up.

Turns out, trying to clean up after a party when you’re still pretty buzzed yourself is a shitshow and a pain and Chris doesn’t even make a dent before he’s deciding “fuck it” out loud, dragging his ass back up the stairs.

He’s out of it enough to not hear the guest room door creak open — that is, until a hand comes out to grab his wrist and suddenly he’s being pulled into the room, their chests brushing up against each other as Chris kind of fumbles through and—and Sebastian’s standing there with this look on his face and—

"I’m not the only one, right?" Seb asks quietly, but there’s an urgency there as he presses himself back into the door as he shuts it, eyes searching Chris’s.

And Chris’s brain is going about a thousand miles a minute, almost as quick as his pulse, and he knows it’s not the right thing to say but all he can manage is a breathy: “What?”

Sebastian bites his bottom lip for a second and then pulls away from the door, brow furrowed and breath a little ragged and: “Scott’s not—…  _You’re_ the right brother and you…you  _get_ that, right? Because I know I said some vague shit out on the porch but I never really know if—”

Chris reels forward, Sebastian’s lips tasting like beer and sweet smoke and heaven as he presses their mouths together. Sebastian stiffens for a moment, obviously caught off guard by the complete and utter desperation in the way Chris kisses him. But it only lasts for a second, because then he’s kissing back —  _pushing_  back — his fingers tangling in Chris’s hair — and it’s a lot to deal with so Chris grabs at his shoulders and pushes until Sebastian’s back is hitting against the door with a  _thunk_.

Seb lets out a tiny noise — one that they can barely hear over the heavy breaths between them — the slickness of their lips moving against each other with such urgency. 

Their hands drop to the other’s clothing like clockwork, Seb’s fingers working on Chris’s belt and Chris getting about half a step away from just tearing through Sebastian’s shirt because of all the goddamn buttons and: “Fuck—”

"Just rip it."

Chris swallows, out of breath. “Really?”

But Seb’s not fucking around — makes that really fucking clear by how he grabs at Chris’s wrists and tugs, a couple of the buttons popping off of the shirt in the process.

Chris doesn’t have time to focus on how hot it is. He just follows through with the rest of the buttons, each of them popping undone and pinging off of the floor and when Chris looks again, Sebastian’s smirking up at him like he’s about to eat him alive.

"Do you bottom?"

Chris’s heart is definitely beating way too fast to be healthy. Because where the _fuck_ did all this confidence come from? “I—…I’ve bottomed before, yeah.”

His shirt gets pulled off and he steps out of his pants and Sebastian’s naked already, looking like everything Chris doesn’t realize he desperately wants until this exact moment. 

"What’s best?" Seb’s voice is husky but smooth and it goes straight to Chris’s dick. Especially when Seb starts pushing him toward the bed.

"Uh…" Talking is so fucking difficult. Even more so when they’re both naked and Chris could die from how hard he is. "Doesn’t—…doesn’t matter I guess. Both are good."

And it must be the absolute perfect thing to say, because Sebastian’s eyes are darkening with something heated. “Seriously?”

Chris swallows. “Seriously.”

"Both it is, then."

And there’s something so fucking  _hot_  about it that Chris knows they have to get a fucking move on — have to power through the next step so they can get to where they ultimately need to be. So he reaches over and fishes a hand through the nightstand (yes, there’s lube in the guest room — for instances exactly like this, thank you…).

He opens the cap and squeezes some onto his fingers before handing the bottle to Sebastian, who is unashamed in his eagerness to do the same.

And it’s really a scandalously interesting sight, the two of them sitting up and facing each other, a leg bent at the knee and hooked over the other person’s thigh as they open themselves up as quickly as possible, Sebastian leaning forward to lick into Chris’s mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. 

Chris pants, the sensory overload beginning to be too much. Because he’s got the slow burn of his fingers and the sensation of Seb’s teeth and Seb’s sitting so close to him, almost fucking  _whining_ as he adds another finger for himself.

It  _is_  too much.  _Way_ too much.

"Fuck. I’m ready — are you ready?" Chris blurts out in a breathy sort of mumble because he can’t take it anymore.

Sebastian nods, moving back a little and voice absolutely fucking devastating as he asks: “Can I fuck  _you_  first?”

And Jesus Christ, how the hell can he say no to  _that_? 

Chris moves himself backwards on the bed, settling awkwardly for a moment before: “How’doya want me?”

Sebastian licks his lips, the consideration fiery as it ignites in his eyes. Then he smirks and says, “Can you turn over?”

It’s a simple request, and Chris isn’t exactly a stranger to being taken from behind, but he has a feeling that this is going to be astronomically better than all those other times. So he turns, propping himself up on his knees and his elbows and—

"Fuck…" Sebastian’s groaning behind him, one hand coming to splay out over Chris’s ass, the other popping the cap back onto the lube. "Do you realize how fucking  _hot_  you are?”

Chris blushes — can feel his face heating up as he presses it against the pillow because  _seriously_? His body’s deciding that  _now’s_ the time to blush? “You gonna fuck me, or what?”

Sebastian must hear the struggle in his voice, because the next thing Chris knows, there’s the slick warmth of the head of Seb’s cock pressing against his asshole and then  _oh fuck_ …

Chris moans. Can’t help it. Not when it feels like there’s about six thousand pleasure points detonating in his body all at once.

” _Shit_ , Chris…” Sebastian groans, his hands dropping to Chris’s hips as he slowly sinks in and then back again, starting up a steady rhythm. 

And Chris is pretty sure he’s died and gone to heaven, his back arching as Seb picks up speed, the sound of skin on skin echoing faster and faster off the walls of the room and— “Fuck…”

"How’s that feel," Seb’s voice is getting scratchy but Chris is too busy grabbing desperately into the bedsheets to notice. Too busy squeezing his eyes shut because Seb’s got this really nice rhythm going and it’s hitting all the right places right off the bat and one of these days he swears he gonna have to get his mouth on that cock—

"Fuck,  _wait—”_

Sebastian’s hips stop on a dime, his breath heavy as he leans forward and takes his hands off of Chris and— “What? What’s wrong?”

But Chris is smiling, laughing at himself and wincing at the pleasure of Sebastian sliding out of him and— “Think it’s my turn.”

Sebastian waits for a moment but then backs away, running his hands over Chris’s ass one more time for good measure. And when Chris turns over, he sees the little spark of heated excitement in his eyes.

"On your back," Chris instructs, and Sebastian takes no time at all to comply, settling back and looking up at Chris with a playful smirk. "Legs up."

Seb does as he’s asked without question, something about it resonating deep and heavy within Chris. “Now what?”

Chris grins, “Now,” and then grabs gently at Sebastian’s calfs and throws his legs over his own shoulders, Seb’s knees hooking over him.

"Oh shit," Seb hums with a lopsided grin, but there’s nothing but eager excitement in his tone.

Chris hears it. “Ready?” And when he gets the affirmative head nod, he lines himself up and then slowly presses forward.

"Oh  _shit_ ,” Seb says again, but this time because of something else entirely.

And Chris definitely relates. 

He eases in as slowly as possible, doing his best to let Seb get used to the feeling. But once everything’s checked out, he’s giving him a little taste of his own medicine — snapping his hips and drinking in the breathy moans that Sebastian has to cover his mouth for because Scott’s only a couple rooms away.

And isn’t that terribly interesting — that Seb’s most definitely loud as hell in bed and they’re somewhere where they have to be quiet?

Chris’s grin grows dark, angling himself and watching as Sebastian’s eyes widen and then slam shut, desperately flinging his arm over his mouth to smother the noises that Chris is pulling out of him.

And Chris doesn’t know why, but he knows that  _Seb knows_  — knows that Chris is doing it on purpose because he realizes now that there’s nothing sexier than Seb biting back his long drawn out moans as Chris fucks him.

It’s all so much and suddenly Seb’s grabbing at Chris’s wrist and “Fuck I’m gonna co _-ahhmmm_ —” he’s pulling the extra pillow over his face, his body rolling and come striping across his chest and he’s crying out into the pillow and Chris can’t deal — can’t cope with the sight and the feeling of Seb clenching around his cock so he pulls out, Seb moving the pillow just in time to see how Chris loses it too, his own come striping across Seb’s chest as well and—

” _Fuck—_ " he hopes it’s okay that he just did that. _Really_ hopes it’s okay he just did that.

Judging by the look of complete and utter satisfaction that’s now washing over Sebastian’s face, Chris would say it is.

"Jesus Christ," Seb exhales dreamily, his eyes falling shut as he runs a hand through his hair.

Chris takes a second to catch his breath, and then chuckles quietly. ”Didn’t really expect  _this_ tonight when you texted me.”

That lingers for a moment before Sebastian looks back up at him, expression subtly careful. “But…it’s a good thing, yeah?”

And Chris wants to lean down and kiss him he’s so endearing — “Definitely.” — even when he’s covered in come.

He helps clean him up, gets a warm washcloth and does basically everything he never really thought he’d get to do. Not with Sebastian. But it’s nice and it’s kind of funny and it’s perfect because it  _is_ Sebastian. And he doesn’t know where the hell they’re going from here, but he supposes this is a really fucking great way to kick things off.

In the morning, Seb comes down for breakfast in one of Chris’s shirts — his own button-up still lying buttonless on the floor of the guest room.

Scott fixes both of them with a knowing stare that quickly morphs into an amused little grin, rolling his eyes as he flips a pancake.

And you’d think Sebastian wasn’t just a damn animal in bed last night with the way he tilts his head down a little bit, the corners of his lips curling shyly as he glancing into his coffee — a secret, Chris decides, that’s specially reserved for just the two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :) come chat me up on [tumblr](http://whatthebodygraspsnot.tumblr.com/)


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